"I don't know what to do," said Perry. "I'd do anything to save him. But there's nothing—"
"There is nothing any of us can do now unless by some lucky chance the loot is recovered. That would clear everything up, of course. But in the meantime we just have to wait and hope."
"And you can't do anything more, Mr. Hardy?"
"A detective is not a miracle man, my boy," said Fenton Hardy kindly. "He is only a man who is trained in tracing criminals. He has to go by the facts at his disposal. I have exhausted every line of action in this case. Everything that could be done, has been done."
Perry Robinson got up, twisting his cap nervously in his hands.
"We all thank you very much too, Mr. Hardy," he said huskily. "Don't think I've been ungrateful by coming here and asking you to do more. I guess I didn't realize just how hopeless it is."
"It isn't hopeless, exactly. Don't think that. There's always hope, you know. But—be prepared for the worst."
"I'll have to be."
With that, the boy left. Frank and Joe met him in the hallway and awkwardly tried to express their sympathy. Perry was grateful.
